It’s hard being an MK (missionary kid). Those times when you come home from being out at someone’s place with whom you grew up with. Lonely. You wish you could walk back through thoses memories and savor them – relive them – escape back to the innocence, the simpleness of that life before. It’s like you have lost something very wonderful.
Others envy you for your interesting life, “All your experiences have bought you so close to God…” and you’re like, No! ha! I’d give anything just to be ‘normal’. How hard it is to leave.
But then you know deep down that you’d never want anything else, never. What I wouldn’t give to be back there again. Doing everything and savoring it that one bit more.